


remeeting

by hyphae



Category: The Craft (Movies 1996 2020)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyphae/pseuds/hyphae
Summary: This movie's ending sucked. I haven't seen the second one. This is a short about adult witches.
Kudos: 5





	remeeting

It felt good. She could think about Nancy without her heart racing, her temperature rising, her eyes darting to find the nearest exit, now. The image of the girl in stark black makeup that was always perfect and always sharp, no longer roused such extreme emotion in Sarah. Now, when the hazy image of her face came up, it was just some girl she had known in high school. 

She still kept up with Bonnie and Rochelle on social media, whenever she infrequently posted. But she was in a new town, and she was finding herself acclimating to the college lifestyle. The battles of life-and-death she had waged within her rebel outgroup in her oppressive Catholic learning institution, had prepared her well for these new social challenges. She kept a cool head and found that others approved of her. 

New town meant new antique shops, and one weekend Sarah had been exploring the old town districts and gone into this perfect little occult shop. The smells of old wood and incense filled the air, the interior was dimly lit and candles flickered. A single young girl was stocking shelves in the shop, dressed in form-fitting black, with pretty long dark hair. 

As she was checking out the girl hurried to the counter, looked up, and Sarah was met with familiar eyes lined with perfect wingtips. 

But in an instant the moment passed, and Nancy smiled and gave her her change. Sarah walked out mechanically, dazed. 

In the days following she would tell herself the atmosphere of the room had made her hallucinate. There was no way her highschool friend-turned-mortal-nemesis wound up in the same college town that she did, and had just sold her candles with a friendly smile. 

She went back to the store, of course, when she needed sage leaves. It made no sense to avoid it, as she had decided already that she had had a paranoid delusion. There was a smiling bearded middle-aged man behind the counter, who chatted to her about the history of the store in this town, and asked her how she was doing at school. As she was leaving, Sarah steeled herself for a second and then turned her head and asked, "I'm sorry but, is there somebody who works here called Nancy Downs?" 

Having hoped the man would confirm her extradimensional experience, she was disappointed when he told her "She works Tuesdays and Thursdays, are you a friend of hers?" 

"Something like that," Sarah said, and thanked him. 

That evening she sat in her dorm chair and watched the crescent moon in the sky. Her mind which had been at peace was bombarded with questions. She closed her eyes and repeated rituals to herself, told herself that Nancy couldn't hurt her anymore. As the rituals passed harmlessly through her she realized that the fear was indeed gone. But something remained that made her uneasy, and as she meditated on what it could be, she realized that she had to go to the store on a Tuesday or Thursday. 

She brought coffee with her. Black, the way Nancy liked it. When she set it on the counter, the silky-haired girl that had Nancy's face looked around the store, seeing that it was empty, and waved her through a bead curtain to flickering flourescent lights and cushions on the floor that seemed to serve as a break room. 

Nancy laughed like a cackling bird, like she used to. 

"That was so long ago, Sarah," she said. "Fuck, I don't even remember it." 

Sarah looked at her and felt a welling up in her chest. "You look good," she said. "How's your mom?" 

"She's doing good," Nancy said. She took a drag from her cigarette and tapped it against a pretty ceramic ashtray. "Still banging the trashiest guys, I swear to god. Her current boyfriend, Derrick, is like... a single mom fetishist." 

They chatted to catch up, and when Sarah was leaving, Nancy handed her a pamphlet for a dance party at some bar she hasn't been to. "I'm DJing," Nancy said with a sharp-toothed grin. 

Outside, Sarah pulled her overcoat tighter against her, stuffing the flyer into her pocket. She watched her breath drift up in the winter air and thought about what she would wear to a dance party. 

She should hit up the thrift store tomorrow for some black clothing and jewelry.


End file.
